


Peace

by Ironlawyer



Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Temporary Character Death, Civil War (Marvel), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/pseuds/Ironlawyer
Summary: Tony says goodbye.  The Confession from Tony’s POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the ‘It Wasn’t Worth it’ square on bingo.

The air is heavy and filled with the smell of dry blood. It shouldn’t make it through the air filters, so maybe it’s psychosomatic but the way the smell sticks inside your nostrils and rolls around in your stomach and ingrains itself in your brain as the only smell you’ll ever remember when you think of him is completely real.

Your eyes are closed beneath the helmet because if you see it then it’s real. You turn the cameras off because there are words that need to be said between you and him and no one else. You haven’t taken the helmet off all day but you do now because you owe it to him to be human for this.

You finally look at him and your mind is assaulted by countless images of his life and death. _Your_ life and death, because the two are as entangled as the nightmare of cables behind his old TV set. You want to hold his hand, but you never did in life and now, when he would least have accepted it, it seems too crass, so you squeeze the helmet until your fingers turn numb instead.

This is the last chance you’ll ever have to talk to him and you try not to think about the real last chance, the one where you argued and walked away knowing you were right, even if he hated you. You talk bullshit because the real words won’t come. Not yet anyway, you need to build up to this. This… whatever it is. There are words tumbling out of your mouth but you’re only half aware of what you’re saying. Jumbled apologies long overdue, justifications he would never have accepted, everything you wanted to say but never could.

You try to tell him and yourself that you did the right thing. That you meant well. But the words are strained and filled with the newfound knowledge that it could never be enough and whatever justification you try to give, he cannot accept and for as long as that is true, you’ll never accept it either. He is silent and he always will be.

He’s gone and he’s taken you with him. You’ve felt hollow for some time now, it’s difficult to pinpoint an exact moment but it’s probably the day you saw what was coming and knew it was a speeding bullet you had no way to stop. This is different though, this is more than just the numb knowledge that you have to be better. He’s left you with a human shaped emotion you don’t know how to handle. There’s a shadow inside you where a man once was.

You would give your life, your freedom, and all the morels you fought so hard to uphold if you could bring him back. His life, his freedom, his morals, mean a thousand times more than yours ever could and it’s obvious now that you fought too hard and too long over something that could never be as important as he is. Was. _Is._

The words wash up a frantic tide you can’t hold back any longer and between the jagged sobs you cry, ‘It wasn’t worth it.’ And really, you mean, ‘I love you,’ but even - or especially - now, the words won’t come, held back by the knowledge that actions speak louder than words and with your actions you’ve given up the right to ever use those words. You put the helmet on so no one will see your tears and without a backward glance, you walk away.


End file.
